Magic
by Suilaid
Summary: This is a fanfiction written for "The Magicians Apprentice" that follows the story of an OC named Neyla, a gifted and rather disturbed magician.
1. Prologue

The streets were confusing, but of course they would be for a woman who had never been in the city of Imardin before. Not to mention the ridiculous amount of people that filled the streets. There were so many of them, and it was hard for her to maneuver very fast, as fast as she could without attracting unwanted attention to herself. She had slipped out of the wagon like a ghost, nobody had seen her go, and she was actually very surprised that she hadn't been caught already. Neyla had debated trying to escape, she knew what sort of punishment she'd receive if he ever got his hands on her again, and she tried not to shudder at that thought and focus on the task at hand. Clearly she had no sense of where she was going, or what she would do, Neyla was a Sachakan; she had lived in Elyne practically her entire life. She had no coin, nobody she knew she could ask for help, but Neyla didn't think about that at the moment, she only thought of freedom. As soon as she felt she had put enough distance between her and the wagon to be satisfied with a small break, the girl stopped moving and rested her hands on her thighs, taking deep breaths. Then she looked around, trying to gather some sense of where she was, and noticed a number four written on one of the buildings. _Okay_, she told herself as she started to make her way down the street,_ remember that_. It was becoming less crowded down number four street, and it seemed to Neyla she was in a more upscale residential area. She highly doubted anyone would take her in, but she pressed forward, forcing herself not to look back every two seconds, and turned down a few more smaller streets. She neared a house that appeared to be two stories high and decided that she needed to get out of the streets and inside a building as soon as possible. All she could do was try, as it was hard to think clearly with her heartbeat pounding in her chest, and her thoughts completely jumbled. Neyla slipped down the side of the house and was looking back to see if anyone was following her when she collided with something very solid.

"Oh!" the "thing" exclaimed, and Neyla felt firm hands grip her arms to stop her from falling backwards. Neyla blinked, staring up into a pair of warm hazel eyes, unable to speak. The man frowned, a look of concern on his face.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his accent Kyralian.

And then Neyla burst into tears.


	2. Chapter 1

Lord Evveran was a handsome, strong, intelligent young man. He had only come into the family fortune over the last couple of years, when his father passed away. His skills as a magician were fair, as was his wife Avaria; who was young and beautiful. Neyla didn't quite understand why Lord Evveran had taken her into his home, she was nothing more than a stranger, and she wondered why he didn't think of her as a possible threat. But speaking wasn't something Neyla wanted to do, as she sat in the tub of almost burning hot water, nervous and skittish, musing over the man. She couldn't believe she had escaped everything, and that it was over. Lord Evveran had told her she was safe now, but a little part of her hesitated to believe him so quickly.

_He doesn't know what happened to me, how can I tell him when all I feel inside is insane. _

She shook her head; hearing droplets of water as then fell from her hair into the tub. She recovered the cloth from the edge of the tub and slowly washed, taking care to get rid of all the dirt and grime from travel, and partly to be rid of his touch. She shuddered, and then scolded herself, splashing a little water on her face. _He doesn't know where you are, Imardin is a huge city, forget him, _Neyla thought. She waited until the water-cooled before getting out and wrapping herself in a soft blue towel. However her mind was in a dark place, and Neyla still felt very vulnerable, so she changed into the clothes provided for her as quickly as possible, mourning the loss of her few possessions she had had, but left them behind when she made the decision to run. Not sure what to do with herself, she went and sat by the window, tugging the knots out of her long brown hair, but after realizing she could be seen by somebody jumped up and quickly went to the door and pulled it open. Neyla looked around the corridor, which was empty of people, and started making her way left, the way she thought she had came. A servant came rushing around the corner and the two women almost knocked each other over.

"I'm sorry!" The women exclaimed, bowing her head at Neyla. "I was meant to come get you but I lost track of time. Forgive me."

Neyla's heart was pounding, and her eyes were wide as she stared at the woman. Slowly she nodded, taking a couple deep breaths. The woman beckoned Neyla to follow her, and the two made their way down a hallway until they reached a large room where Lord Evveran sat in a large chair, appearing to be deep in thought.

"Master Evveran, uh- the girl has arrived." The servant didn't know Neyla's name; in fact, nobody in the home knew her name. She hadn't spoken to anyone, not even Lord Evveran. She had simply burst into tears.

"Thank you, you are dismissed." Lord Evveran stood up, and gestured for Neyla to come closer.

"I know," he started, "that you have gone through something… difficult, and I will not pressure you to share that with me. I want you to be comfortable here, and to feel safe."

Neyla looked into his eyes, then slightly turned away from him. She was confused at his kindness, his sympathy.

"W-why are you being so… kind." She whispered. Lord Evveran's eyes widened at having heard her voice. He was also confused.

"You do not know? You do not know that you have magic?" He replied. Neyla reeled back in shock.

"What?"

"You're a natural then."

Neyla stared at Lord Evveran and for a moment they were silent. Then the man sighed and sat down, rubbing his temple. Neyla crossed her arms, shivering slightly from the cool breeze that entered from the open window. Her mind was asking her why she didn't feel alarm to be alone in a room with a man she barely knew, but for some reason she was drawn to him. She could sense the hum of something that radiated off of him, but she couldn't understand what it was.

"Would you please tell me what happened to you?" He asked, and Neyla jumped at his voice. When she looked back at him he wore an expression of deep concern and maybe… sadness?

_Could he truly feel such concern for me? _ She thought to herself, wondering at this man. He fascinated her, and he shook her to the core, in a way that wasn't bad but she couldn't explain it. She bit her lip, feeling a little uncomfortable about her past and thinking of what to tell him.

"If it's too hard to talk about, there is an alternative." He stood up again, holding out his hand. "I can read your mind, and find out for myself without you having to explain."

Neyla considered it; she didn't think she had the strength to tell Lord Evveran herself without getting upset. She nodded, turning to face him.

"I only need to touch your temples," he told her in a soothing voice. Neyla nodded once more, sucking in her breath as he reached up and lightly placed his hands on either side of her head.

She felt an interesting foreign sensation. Neyla felt Lord Evveran in her mind as he gently probed her thoughts, searching. The past flashed before his eyes as he watched everything play out. The images made her wince, and when _his _face flashed before her Neyla whimpered, and at once the images stopped.

"Oh Neyla," Lord Evveran took her into his arms, and instead of struggling like the scared part of her wished to, she started to sob and grabbed onto his coat. Lord Evveran sighed, smoothing back her hair and repeatedly whispering comforting words, assuring her nothing would ever happen to her ever again. For a while Neyla stood in his arms, trying to stop the flow of tears that seeped into Lord Evveran's shirt. Eventually she stood back, hiccupping softly and trying to get her breathing normal. Lord Evveran watched her, still concerned.

"I-I stained your shirt." She whispered. He laughed softly, looking down at the tear stained clothing.

"Of all things to be concerned about, my shirt is not one of them." Neyla looked up at him, and couldn't resist a small smile.

"Come now, you must be starving." He held out his arm, offering it to Neyla. Hesitantly she linked her arm through his, and allowed him to lead her out the room and down the hallway to another room with a table. He helped her to her seat, and then sat across from her. Several servants entered bearing trays laden with food, placing them on the table.

"Please, eat." Lord Evveran smiled at her, before helping himself to some of the food. Neyla tasted the different Kyralian dishes; some of them she didn't quite like but the majority were very good. She realized how hungry she was, and ate until she could eat anymore. After Lord Evveran had finished he stood up, and Neyla rose as well.

"I think some sleep would do us all well. Stella, please take Neyla to her bedroom. Goodnight."

Neyla looked back at him as she followed the girl, and Lord Evveran gave her a reassuring smile. Once she was in her bedroom the servant directed her to the nightgowns and then left Neyla to her own devices. Once she had climbed into the luxuriously soft bed and settled down, her thoughts buzzed.

_Sleeping will be hard tonight,_ she thought, thinking back to Lord Evveran. However only after a few minutes, her body was too tired to stay awake, and she drifted off into a deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 2

Despite the fact that Neyla was as safe as she could be, it didn't stop the flow of nightmares that caused her to wake up with a start, her body covered in sweat and her nightgown clinging to her skin. The sheet she had curled up with before drifting off to sleep had wound itself around her waist and legs from all her tossing and turning. Neyla couldn't suppress a sob, and immediately after waking she buried her head in one of the many pillows and tried not to scream, hot tears streaming down her cheeks as she cried. I am weak, she told herself, I cannot be around anyone without being in great discomfort; he has succeeded in beating me down to nothing more but a shell of the girl I used to be. He is not here, and yet I am still haunted by him.

There was a creak, and Neyla tensed, thoughts of a certain Sachakan running through her mind as she began to panic, when a soft voice called out to her.

"Neyla, it's me. Evveran."

Her body visible relaxed as Evveran watched the woman lift the pillow away from her face to peer at him. He could see she was clearly distressed.

"I-I thought you w-were..." she began, and then promptly burst into tears again.

"I'm sorry my dear," Evveran quickly entered her room and shut the door, coming over to where she lay sprawled on the mattress. He knelt down beside her and gently tugged her arm, encouraging the girl to turn to him. Neyla shifted closer and laid her head down on his chest, one of her hands tightly gripping his shirt, and she let out a shaky sigh.

"Was it a nightmare?" Lord Evveran asked quietly, smoothing parts of her hair away from her face. Neyla hiccupped and nodded quickly, trying to resist crying some more.

"Every night," she whispered brokenly, closing her eyes. "Except when ... when I was still trapped, my nightmares w-were a reality."

"Well you're safe now, I promise you," Evveran replied firmly, squeezing her shoulder. He murmured more soothing words to her, watching Neyla as she became more relaxed, until she was able to fall asleep in his arms; and Evveran did not move from that spot until the late morning.

* * *

><p>Sunlight filtered through the windows, warming Neyla's face, and she shifted so that her head was turned away, and then tensed. Opening one eye, she watched the rise and fall of Evveran's chest as he slept, one arm draped loosely around her. She watched as the young man slept, noticing for the first time how much darker his skin was than other Kyralians, and wondered how much Sachakan blood he had. Neyla continued to wonder how it was she was not afraid to be in such close proximity, especially to someone she had only just met, but even though she searched for some sort of worry she could not find it in her to not trust Lord Evveran; there was something about him she couldn't quite understand.<p>

Quietly, Neyla watched Evveran, studying his features. His hair was thick and dark, it hung loose around his face as he had probably retired to bed and taken it out of it's tie before coming to Neyla's room. Long black eyelashes brushed his cheeks while he slept, his mouth slightly open, and the girl resisted the urge to reach up and brush her fingertips over his lips, the line of his jaw, his straight nose and curved brow. _He's handsome_, she thought to herself, and then quickly looked away. _He's also married_. Neyla breathed in sharply, her body tensing, and Evveran sensed it. His eyes slowly opened and he looked down at Neyla, smiling sleepily at her though she did not see it.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked softly, noticing she played with a strand of her hair. Neyla glanced up at him, and then back down, nodding. She shifted away from him and pulled the sheet closer around her body, knowing her nightgown was all too thin.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, his brow creasing slightly, worried he had upset her in some way.

"Y-yes, I am just... it's just..." Neyla sighed. "You are married." She bit her lip, looking everywhere but at the man.

Evveran chuckled, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

"There is no crime in consoling you is there? Avaria understands, and she trusts me."

"Forgive me," Neyla replied quickly, feeling her cheeks grow warm, "I-I…"

"It's okay Neyla, honest."

Neyla glanced over at Evveran, meeting his gaze, and she nodded. She surprised herself at how easy it was to be in Evveran's company, she used to be quite a sociable person before everything changed. Now she squirmed under the attention of anyone, and most people thought she was mute because if she became anxious enough Neyla found her self-unable to speak. With Lord Evveran however, she felt like she already knew him very well, and was completely at ease with him, he comforted her like no other, it had been too long since she had felt she could be happy, or at least peaceful.

"Now, you must be hungry. Betha will be along shortly and you may chose whatever it is you desire to eat."

"Where are you going?" Neyla asked quietly, fidgeting with the hem of her sheet.

"I have a few things to do, but I would love it if you had lunch with me later, I also have some things I wish to talk to you about."

"Okay," Neyla replied, smiling shyly at him. "Are there any rules I need to know?"

"No nothing like that." Evveran waved his hand, and then ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the knots. "Ask the servants if you have questions, you may go where you please; although I would highly advise you not to leave the house yet. You said you only just arrived yesterday, which means Ranaul will still be in Imardin."

Ranaul. Neyla shuddered at hearing the man's name spoken out loud, but she nodded, telling Evveran she would do no such thing while he was still close by. Lord Evveran smiled reassuringly at the girl and then left the room, with many things on his mind. Neyla sighed, flopping back down on the bed and her mind racing. She suppressed another shudder and quickly got out of bed, walking over to the trunk, which held clothes that Avaria had graciously provided her. Most of the articles were dresses, and Neyla wrinkled her nose at the feminine attire, she much rather preferred a good pair of pants and a tunic than a frilly, flowing dress. Luckily, tucked in the very bottom of the trunk was a pair of faded black pants that, when Neyla tried them on, fit her very well. A top was also found in the bottom alongside the pants. Oh good, Neyla thought cheerfully, this I am much more comfortable in. A knock sounded at the door, and when Neyla didn't answer a woman she assumed was Betha poked her head in.

"Good morning lady Neyla," she greeted, stepping into the room. "What would you like for breakfast?"

Neyla pondered the question, wondering if any of the Sachakan dishes she ate were also available in Imardin.

"Do you make Lecha?" She asked quietly.

"Ah yes, we do, it is quite popular in Imardin," Betha replied cheerfully, and she asked if that was what Neyla wished to eat.

"I would, yes, thank you very much." Neyla was used to people tending to her, though things were differently in Sachaka. The city she stayed in had more Kyralian influence than the other countries, as more Kyralian people lived there than anywhere else, but it was still a Sachakan city, and Neyla was part Sachakan. She knew of the slaves, her own parents never had any as they never had a status high enough like a Magician or noble. But when she was kept against her will with that man, as she would not even say his name in her thoughts, he had many slaves that would tend to their needs. Not surprisingly, they were not treated very well, as is typical for a Sachakan to beat his slaves, and so her captor followed suit and gave the same treatment.

Neyla busied herself with the small bookcase that stood against the far wall of her room, parallel to her bed, and noticed that she had read a great deal of the books that lay on it's shelves. However one she hadn't read before caught her eye, and she plucked it off the shelf, going over to the small seating area and settling into the armchair. Neyla read until her breakfast arrived. Betha brought it over to her and placed the platter down on the small table beside her chair, and Neyla admitted it smelt wonderful, hoping it tasted as good. Lecha was a simple little dish, but Neyla had loved it ever since she was a little girl, and her mother used to prepare it for her all the time. She thought back to her parents, and her throat constricted painfully tight, she missed them dearly. No one in her family knew that she had left only because the lives of her loved ones were being threatened, no one knew that the marriage was a scam and she had never been in love with him, not even close; she despised the man she had been forced to marry.

But nobody knew that, and it has been too long since she last saw her parents. Suddenly the steaming dish didn't seem so appealing, but Neyla forced herself to take a few bites, noting it was very close to what her mother's tasted like. Lecha was simply diced potato fried with spices and a variety of things mixed in depending on what one preferred. Traditionally egg was scrambled in with it, as well as cheese, and then whichever vegetables and sometimes diced ham. This morning Neyla ate just that, and overall she found it to be quite good when compared to Sachakan way of cooking, which was all she knew.

* * *

><p>The rest of the morning passed by rather quickly. Neyla wandered the house, getting to know the layout and memorize the rooms so that she would not get lost, until Betha found her sometime later with a message from Evveran.<p>

"Lord Evveran will see you for lunch now," Betha told her, and Neyla nodded. Allowing the woman to lead her Neyla followed her down a series of hallways until she entered a smaller great room that held a large circular table. It was located on the second floor, to which Neyla was more accustomed to a Sachakan home where house were only one story. Kyralian homes were multi-storied, and it oftentimes confused Neyla. When she entered the room Evveran rose from his seat, and another man beside him rose as well. The girl froze, and her eyes widened slightly as she noticed the other man. She looked away, down at the floor, and became very nervous.

"Neyla, sweet, come closer," Evveran called softly. "I assure you that you have absolutely nothing to worry about, this is a dear friend of mine. Someone I trust entirely."

Neyla shuffled forward, her forehead creasing as she frowned and then bit her lip, her gaze averted. Slowly she reached them, and the man beside Evveran looked over at his friend with curiosity in his eyes though he did not say anything.

"Lady Neyla," the man greeted her, inclining his head. Neyla blinked, glancing up the man, and then looked away, her discomfort obvious.

"This is Lord Sabin," Evveran told Neyla, "He is swords master for the King."

Neyla's eyes widened, and she stared at Sabin unabashedly.

"S-swords master?" She whispered, her voice ringing with awe.

"Yes my lady, does that interest you?" Sabin asked, smiling kindly at her. Neyla nodded enthusiastically and Evveran laughed.

"Wonderful, wonderful! Come Neyla, let us eat lunch." Evveran and Sabin took his seat, and Neyla chose the seat opposite of both men, so that she could see them without having to lean forward and turn her head. Several servants entered bearing trays of food, and Lord Evveran gestured for his company to dig in. For the most part Neyla was quiet, she was still feeling anxious to be in Sabin's company, but he seemed like a nice enough man, and Evveran trusted him so that made her feel a little better. She was not feeling very hungry since she had had a large breakfast, and so she picked at a few dishes here and there. Most she did not recognize, and Neyla didn't like a few of them, but there were a couple Kyralian dishes she didn't mind eating. While she ate, Lord Evveran and Sabin talked about seemingly non-important things, and Neyla only half paid attention. She had felt something radiating off of Evveran when she first met him, and the more she sat in the great room with Lord Sabin the more she realized she could sense it in him too. Neyla munched thoughtfully on a carrot while she silently surveyed the two men, trying to draw a conclusion, when it suddenly hit her.

"Um," she started, clearing her throat. Evveran stopped talking and the men looked over at Neyla, who blushed and stuttered. "A-are you a m-m-magician, Lord Sabin?" She inquired, her voice shaky and barely audible.

"Yes, I am," Sabin replied with a smile, and then he frowned ever so slightly. "How did you know?"

"Lord E-Evveran is too," Neyla murmured, averting her gaze. She chewed the inside of her lip, trying to find the right words. "I sense the same thing in you I sense in him," she continued. "I-It's like...like a humming. Like a frequency, a wave I can f-feel, or sense." She realized she probably sounded stupid, but Evveran's eyes lit up, and Sabin leaned forward.

"That is most interesting," he replied, studying the young woman.

"Ah, I forgot to tell you, Neyla is a natural."

"A Natural? That is fantastic!" Sabin exclaimed, and he clapped Evveran on the shoulder. "Are you taking her on as an Apprentice?"

"Well, that's what I wished to discuss with her today, when you stopped by." Evveran replied, and Sabin chuckled.

"Wait...what exactly is a Natural?" Neyla piped up. "I know you told me I'm one, and I have heard of that before but..."

"You have magic, but it has not yet been developed by a Magician, it lies unchecked and is usually very dangerous. I wonder..." Evveran looked over at Sabin. "How she went so long without anyone knowing she's a natural."

"How old are you?" Sabin asked Neyla.

"Twenty three summers," Neyla replied nervously, and Sabin rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"That is very odd indeed, usually the magic in Naturals is dangerous and sporadic, have you never had anything weird happen? Any strange accidents you probably couldn't explain?"

"No," Neyla replied, trying to think back. "Not that I can remember."

"Well Neyla," Evveran smiled at her. "I would like to take you on as an apprentice, if you will have me?"

Neyla stared silently at Lord Evveran, trying to grasp what was going on.

"Y-you mean...that eventually I'll be a Magician?"

"Yes," Evveran replied, nodding. "Indeed you will be."

"Please, I would like to very much," the girl exclaimed, and both men laughed.

"That is good news," Sabin told Evveran, and the younger man agreed. "I think she will do very well."

"I know she will," Evveran stated firmly, a smile on his lips as he looked over at Neyla.

Neyla simply blushed, though she too smiled back. Now she had something significant she could accomplish; she could start rebuilding her life; with Evveran by her side.


	4. Chapter 3

Neyla could barely believe that a month had passed since she first arrived in Imardin, four weeks since she found herself in Lord Evveran's home, and since discovering she contained magic within her. The apprentice lounged in a comfortable chair in Evveran's library, completely engrossed in the book he had given for her to read, and had not noticed the man approach her until he waved his hand in front of the page she was currently reading. Neyla looked up, and returned the smile Evveran directed at her.

"I take it you enjoy the book?" He asked, and Neyla nodded, closing the volume and turning to face him.

"I like every book you give me, master," she replied cheerfully, and Evveran let out a long sigh.

"How many times must I tell you not to call me master," he scolded, and Neyla laughed at the disgruntled Magician.

"I can't help it, maybe one day I'll learn." She replied playfully, and Evveran laughed, taking a seat in the chair across from her.

"You learn too fast, it's incredible how much you have learned this last month. Most take many months to learn what you've learned in a handful of weeks."

"Is it unheard of?" Neyla asked curiously, placing the book down. She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands, staring thoughtfully at Evveran.

"I have never heard of anyone learning so fast, it truly amazing to watch your progress."

"Then you are pleased," Neyla replied, smiling. "Good."

Evveran nodded, leaning forward. He took her slender hand and squeezed it gently. "I will always be proud of you," he murmured softly, and Neyla bowed her head. She was truly grateful for all that had been given to her by the kind Lord Evveran, but there was something on her mind that bothered her. However before she could open her mouth to ask the question burning on her lips Evveran spoke.

"I have something for you to do, if you're interested. I figured a small and quick errand down the street would be good for you, do you think you can handle it?"

Neyla sat back in her seat and thought for a moment. Her heart had skipped a beat when he first mentioned going outside, but she pushed back the fear that crept up; she would be strong for her Lord Evveran.

"Of course, I will go now," Neyla replied firmly, standing up; and Evveran followed suit.

"Are you sure?" He asked, and when Neyla nodded enthusiastically continued, "Then here is this letter for a friend of mine. His house is just down the street. Usually I get one of the servants to do it for me but I thought you might enjoy testing the waters so to speak."

"I will be back shortly then," Neyla replied, carefully hiding her nervousness with a smile and a quick kiss on Evveran's cheek; earning a cheeky grin from the man.

"I will be here," he replied, and Neyla left the room.

* * *

><p>Delivering the letter was easy. Though Neyla had a hard time speaking to the servant man who had answered the door, he had gotten what she was trying to say and had thanked her kindly for bringing the letter; handing her one in return. However the walk back wasn't as pleasant as it had been on the way over, she felt like somebody was watching her. Panic rose up as Neyla desperately tried to push the thoughts out of her mind of a malicious and evil Sachakan she never wanted to lay eyes on ever again, when a voice called out to her. Neyla froze, her body seizing up, and she dropped letter. It floated down to the cobbled stone ground and lay still. It can't be, her mind told her, but the fear that had claimed her told her that this was no dream, the hair on her arms and back of her neck stood up as testament.<p>

"Turn around Neyla," the voice called, soft and yet demanding obedience. Neyla knew that voice all too well, and she slowly turned around to face the man.

"Beautiful as always," Ranaul murmured, stepping forward. One hand reached up and gently brushed a stray strand of her dark brown hair away from her face, and Neyla visible shuddered.

"Hate me that much do you?" Ranaul chuckled; enjoying the torture he was putting the woman through, as his fingers ran down her bare forearm. "I gave you everything you could have ever wanted, and yet you ran away from me."

"You know why," Neyla replied through clenched teeth, pulling away from Ranaul. "It was not a marriage of love, you threatened to kill my parents...my family..."

"I know, I know," the Sachakan replied, waving his hand. "I love you, I thought maybe one day you could learn to love me."

" I can never love you." Neyla's voice cracked, and she desperately fought back tears. "I was a prisoner, you cared only for yourself. No luxury in the world could have made me happy."

"Are you happy now?" Ranaul asked, making no move to touch her again, and Neyla crossed her arms protectively over her chest.

"Yes," she replied firmly.

"Well then, I guess I shouldn't take that away from you."

Her eyes widened. Did she hear him right? Ranaul, the man she despised more than anyone in the world, a ruthless Sachakan and heir to a royal family estate; was letting her go?

"I...you're..." she stuttered.

"Don't look so surprised," Ranaul replied with a laugh, "I considered grabbing you and taking you back to Sachaka with me this very instant, as well as punishing you for running away. But I have... met someone."

"What?" Neyla asked, her mind numb.

"Lets just say love changes a person."

"So this love for this woman, you could not have tried to be so courteous to me?" Neyla scowled, he disgusted her.

"Who says I was courteous?" Ranaul grinned, a crazed look in his eyes Neyla knew meant that there was more than what he was telling her. She knew what he meant, and felt very sorry for the girl, another victim.

"You sick bastard," Neyla growled, "I hope she runs away as well, and sooner than I did."

"Now my love, don't make me change my mind." Ranaul laughed when she took a couple steps away from him, and then turned to leave.

"So far I know this, Kyralian's are far more kinder and obedient than fiery Sachakan women!" Ranaul chuckled, and walked away.

Neyla resisted saying something more, she wanted to be away from him. Picking up the fallen letter, she ran the entire way home, not stopping until she reached the library, and entered to find Evveran reading. When he looked up and saw Neyla however, Evveran quickly stood up, a look of concern on his fair features; and reached out to Neyla when a sob escaped her lips. He took the girl in his arms, cradling her head against his chest as she clutched onto him, though her eyes were dry.

"You're shaking like a leaf!" He exclaimed, pushing her back so he could look at her face, and Neyla bowed her head. "What happened?"

"R-Ranaul..." she whispered, and shook her head. "That...that bastard has taken another wife, a Kyralian who has no idea what she's getting into..."

"Wait, Ranaul? He found you?" Evveran's eyes widened, "How...it's been a month now!"

"I guess he stuck around," Neyla replied quietly, and then she relayed the whole conversation she had had between her former and abusive Sachakan husband.

"Oh Neyla," Evveran sighed, gathering her up in his arms again. "You were so strong. I am sorry you had to see him again…but it gives me a little comfort to know that he is truly leaving you alone now."

"I am glad for that, just very sad for the girl," Neyla replied, her voice muffled.

"That is very unfortunate, I wonder if there is anything that can be done to prevent it." Neyla pulled away from Evveran and looked up at him, noting he wore his deep thinking expression.

"Can you?" Neyla asked, and Evveran looked back down at her.

"I will try," he replied after a moment, "Go and rest." He kissed the top of her head before making his way to the door. "I will see you for dinner later."

* * *

><p>As Neyla lay in bed that night, thoughts of the poor Kyralian woman Ranaul had captured with lies of a happier life in Sachaka filled her mind. Her skin crawled at the thought of him so close to her as he had been earlier, and she could imagine what life would be like for the girl who was next in line for the same treatment she had received. Neyla didn't speak about her life in Sachaka, but as she drifted off into a fitful sleep like she did most nights, dreams of memories she wished to forget began to paint a grisly nightmare for her...<p>

A younger, infinitely happier Neyla stood at a particular stall in the marketplace of Elyne She picked up a piece of fruit from the wicker box and inspected it, before placing it in her sash.

"How's your mother, Neyla?" The woman behind the stall asked, and Neyla shrugged.

"Good I guess, nothing new."

The two women chatted a little bit more while Neyla picked out fruit, and then she reached into the pocket of her dress and retrieved a small coin pouch, handing the older woman the appropriate coin for her goods. As she turned to leave however, another person knocked her back, as the marketplace was packed with people, and she bumped into someone else.

"I'm sorry..." the words died on her lips as she turned around and was saw whom it was she had bumped. A most beautiful man stood before her, tall and lean. His dark skin glowed under the ray of the afternoon sun, and dark brown hair brushed his shoulders. He was a beautiful Sachakan man, and Neyla stuttered another apology when he held up his hand and she closed her mouth.

"It is quite alright," the man replied pleasantly, his voice deep and smooth, and his accent was thickly Sachakan. He smiled at Neyla with bright, straight teeth; and then turned away and disappeared into the throng of people. Neyla blinked several times, and then turned around to look at Tilla.

"What?" Neyla asked, when she noticed the old woman grinning at her.

"I don't think I've ever seen a faster attraction between two people," she replied with a laugh, and Neyla rolled her eyes. However her thoughts were mostly filled with the mysterious handsome Sachakan for the rest of the evening.

Neyla couldn't have been more enthusiastic to run an errand the next morning. Her mother was expecting a few of her friends to come and visit, and insisted on having the sweet little rolls you could purchase from the baker's stall; so Neyla eagerly set out, hoping that she'd catch another glimpse of the mysterious Sachakan. However after she had received the baked goods, she had not seen him, so she wasted time along the way home, looking at the other stall's merchandise to pass time. After a while and no luck, With a defeated sigh, Neyla seriously began to make her way home, and slipped down a smaller, less used street that was more narrow than the rest; knowing it would lead her away from the crowds of the market so she didn't have to fight her way through. However as she neared the end of the street she felt a hand grab her arm, and before she could protest or turn around to see the source, was roughly shoved back and against the white clay wall.

"Who..." Neyla started to exclaim, and once again her words died on her lips, and the familiar face of the Sachakan man from yesterday greeted her. But something wasn't right this time, as he grinned at her with an expression she didn't recognize.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her heart beat rising as the man ran his fingers up her bare arm, stepping forward so her was close to her. His face was mere inches away, as he pinned her against the wall and chuckled. She felt a panic rise up.

"I saw you in the market. Noticed you were looking around an awful lot. Looking for me, perhaps?" His voice was like honey, but there was something that told Neyla this was wrong, and so she squirmed uncomfortably under his touch.

"Let me go!" She cried out, and the man tightened his grip on her arm, his other hand reaching up to gently brush her cheek; retracting it quickly when she moved to bite him.

"Now now," he cooed. "I like you. You're mine." The last two words were growled in her ear, and Neyla shuddered, feeling very frightened by the stranger as his body pressed even closer against her, and she could feel all of his hardened body through the fine cotton clothing he wore. Taking a deep breath, she raked her brain for a way to get away.

"Dream on," she replied coldly, and swiftly brought her head forward.

There was a loud thump, as Neyla's forehead collided with the Sachakan's, and the man cried out, immediately letting go of her to clutch his head. Neyla nearly cried out in pain as well, but the need to get away from him overpowered the urge to clutch her head and kneel on the ground as she felt nauseous, and she gathered up the sweet rolls, stumbling back down the street and into the market. She was quickly swallowed up by the surge of people, and the Sachakan lost all sight of her, although he hadn't been paying attention very well due to the intense pounding in his skull that made his vision swim.

Neyla barely made it home without passing out, and handed the sweets to her mother without a word, ignoring the cries of shock and concern from her family as they noticed her bright red forehead and disoriented state. She quickly climbed ran down the hallway to her room, stumbling several times and tripping once, but before she could reach her bed; finally collapsed on the cold stone floor and did not move.


	5. Chapter 4

It was a mild spring evening when Lord Dakon and his apprentices arrived in Imardin, and like Evveran had told her, would be staying in his home for the duration of their stay.

"My father first started it, and now I have no problem keeping that up, I like Dakon." He had told her the evening before arrival, when she joined him and Lady Avaria for dinner.

"I look forward to meeting Tessia," Avaria spoke happily, "We will have to go shopping!"

Neyla smiled, knowing Avaria would enjoy that immensely. Since taking Neyla shopping wasn't an option, she simply didn't enjoy it.

"I think you and Tessia will get along, at least from what Dakon has told me, she is a very bright girl." Evveran had been talking to Neyla, who looked up.

"You do not have to meet everyone when they arrive if you wish," he continued. "If you would rather meet them on your own time, whenever it happens."

"I like that better," Neyla replied, and the couple chuckled.

"You'll like them, I know it." Neyla gave Avaria a warm smile, and then excused herself from the table, saying she had things to do.

"Always studying," Avaria sighed, turning to her husband. "You work her too hard."

"You know that's not true," Evveran replied playfully, "She studies because she loves to, I am astounded at how fast she is learning. It's been what, just over a year now?"

"There's something special about her."

* * *

><p>Neyla sat in her bedroom, which had drastically changed since she first arrived in Imardin. No longer was it impersonal and tidy. Stacks of books were piled every where, the large desk and table brimming with paper covered in Neyla's handwriting, as well as countless journals had been nearly stacked on the small bookcase that had once held a couple fiction novels. No longer did Neyla read anything of that sort, she was obsessed with the world of magic. She spent nearly every waking minute reading or writing, or experimenting, as bits of tools also occupied the room. It was an organized mess, as Neyla lounged in her chair with her legs dangling over the armrest, a book propped on her leg. Currently she was reading a more advanced book about defensive magic, and many thoughts and questions whirled in her mind and she began to form ideas. She bit her nails, deeply engaged in what she were reading, until a light knock rapped on her door.<p>

"Come in," she called out, no longer shy towards any member of the house. Strangers were a different matter, but she tackled those situations as best she could when she got to them, which wasn't very often. For the most part Neyla stayed within the house, or wandered alone outside for some fresh air or practice with Evveran in the courtyard. Lord Evveran entered, and Neyla immediately withdrew her legs from the armrest, closing the book and giving the man her complete attention.

"Are they here yet?" Neyla asked curiously, glancing at the window. The sun had set not too long ago, and she figured they'd either be here or close by, but Evveran shook his head; sitting down in the chair beside her.

"Not yet, I wanted to talk to you about some thing," Evveran smiled at her, and Neyla relaxed in her seat.

'I think you're nearly ready to become independent," he continued, and Neyla's face lit up.

"Really?" She asked breathlessly, and her smile broadened when he nodded.

"I truly am completely blown away by how fast you have learned," Evveran praised, "I can barely grasp it. It's been a year since you started apprenticing and you have learned more than what typically takes four to five years."

"I am a fast learner," Neyla replied confidently, and Evveran shook his head.

"You are much more than that Neyla," he told her softly, squeezing her hand. "You are gifted."

Neyla blushed, looking down, but she still smiled at the compliment. She opened her mouth to say something when another knock sounded. It was Betha.

"Lord Evveran, Lord Dakon's wagon has just arrived," she announced, and Evveran rose from his seat.

"Are you coming?" He asked, and Neyla shook her head. "Okay then," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "We'll talk more later."

* * *

><p>Meeting people always brought up a lot of Anxiety for Neyla, though she desperately tried not to let it get the best of her, most of the time she ended up silent and flustered. A couple days had passed since Lord Dakon had arrived, and so far she had not run into either him or his Apprentices. She figured she should find them soon, but her nerves overpowered her so she continued to not seek them out, and focused on her studies; which could hardly be called that anymore. For the past couple weeks Evveran had not been able to teach her anything new, and they simply rehashed old lessons; but that became boring very quickly. Now Neyla spent her days doing as she pleased, and Evveran did not expect her to confide with him. He knew whatever she was doing was probably brililant, and he never pushed her to share her findings with him. One afternoon she lay on one of the recliners in the greeting room with a book raised above her head, engrossed as usual, and did not notice someone enter.<p>

"Oh!" a voice called out, and Neyla quickly turned her head towards the source. A young man, in his early twenties at the latest, stood nearby. Neyla knew that he must be Jayan, but she could not bring herself to say something. Jayan moved forward, rubbing his neck and grinning meekly, and Neyla simply watched him nervously.

"I think I'm lost," he told her, and Neyla relaxed a little. He was friendly enough, and watched the girl shift into a sitting position on the chair. She closed the book she had been reading and bit her lip, glancing up at him from time to time and appearing uncomfortable. Jayan realized this young girl must be Lord Evveran's Apprentice.

"Are you Apprentice Neyla?" He asked, and Neyla nodded.

"Y-you must be Apprentice J-Jayan," she replied quietly, and Jayan nodded as well. "What room are you looking for?" She asked, finally meeting his gaze. She resisted the urge to look away, and fidgeted with the hem of her shift.

"The Library. At least that's where master Dakon told me he would be, with Lord Evveran." Jayan watched Neyla curiously, understanding what Evveran had told him, Tessia, and Dakon the night they had arrived. He had expected to meet her along with greeting the two Magicians, but Evveran had explained that Neyla would meet them on her own time.

"I'm sorry to say that it might be...difficult to converse with her in the beginning," Evveran had spoken. "You have to understand her anxiety around strangers."

Jayan understood what he meant now, so he calmly waited for Neyla to speak, hoping he didn't appear rude or impatient. Neyla brushed her long hair back, and Jayan had to admit she was quite a beautiful woman. Although her features were distinctly Kyralian, her skin was the warm golden tone of a Sachakan, and he wondered where she had come from. Neyla glanced back up at Jayan, her pretty blue eyes resting on his momentarily, and then she spoke.

"I will take you to the library."

Surprised that she was even talking to him, since Evveran had joked that the servants used to think she was a mute, for she refused to talk to them for a long time. Jayan thanked her warmly. Flashing her a smile, the girl simply looked away and stood up. Holding her book close to her chest, she started to walk down the hall, and Jayan followed her, stepping in stride beside the apprentice.

Neyla took a deep breath, she always felt ridiculous at the way she acted around strangers and people she didn't know; she was grateful that it had at least started to improve a bit since her arrival in Imardin. Her social skills were probably pretty poor due to the five years she spent being emotionally and mentally tortured by Ranaul, kept in the house with no interaction with anyone but that man, and she cursed his name every day for what he did to her. Watching as a small frown appeared on her young face, Jayan couldn't help but wonder what was on her mind.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, and Neyla glanced up at him.

"Oh." Neyla sighed, smiling slightly. "Yes of course, I was jus thinking about something.."

"I can get someone else to direct me if you're too-"

"No! I'm sorry..." Neyla stopped walking, and turned to face Jayan. She forced herself to look up at him, her brows creased together. She felt terrible for making him feel like he had done her some sort of wrong.

"You haven't done anything, I-I am sorry for my social lacking, I hope you can understand."

Jayan nodded, a smile on his lips, and Neyla hesitantly smiled back after a moment.

"Master Evveran told me you might not talk at all, Im glad I did not have the same affect."

They continued walking, until Neyla turned the corner and they reached a set of doors. Opening one door, Jayan let Neyla pass through first, and she stuck her head inside the room.

"Ah Neyla, there you are!" Evveran exclaimed, and gestured for her to step inside. Endless volumes of books lined ceiling high bookshelves, an impressive collection that had been started by Evveran's Grandfather.

"I see you have apprentice Jayan with you," Evveran continued, and then man seated across from him looked over. Neyla's voice hitched in her throat as she glanced over at him, and she quickly looked away.

"Y-yes, he got lost," she whispered, and Jayan walked over to Lord Dakon.

"Sorry I'm late," he told his master, "like Neyla said, I lost my way."

"It's quite alright," Dakon replied, and he smiled pleasantly at Neyla, who didn't notice. "Thank you Neyla."

The woman nodded, and Evveran beckoned for her to come closer. When she was close enough her gently took her hand and pulled her down to eye level so he could tell her something quietly, and Neyla smiled.

"L-lord Dakon," Neyla greeted, turning towards the Magician. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"And it is a pleasure to meet the gifted Apprentice of Lord Evveran," Dakon replied, "I have heard very much about you Neyla."

"Is it true that you've only been an apprentice for a year, and you're already finished?" Jayan asked, sitting beside Dakon. Neyla remained standing, and she glanced between the three men.

"Yes," she replied, and Jayan looked surprised.

"Incredible," he murmured.

"We were just talking about the gathering," Evveran told the apprentices, "after the parade."

"How was your meeting?" Neyla inquired, and Evveran sighed.

"I'm not sure if it went well, there was a lot of discussion and not a whole lot of answers."

Dakon sighed as well, he looked quite preoccupied, and Neyla wondered if he was nervous about meeting with the King. However she was ready to go elsewhere, after meeting both Lord Dakon and Jayan at the same time, she wished to go back to her research, and so she excused herself and left the library, heading to her familiar and comforting bedroom.

* * *

><p>It was later in the evening when Evveran sought out Neyla, who was in her bedroom as she usually was, writing away in a new journal she had recently acquired.<p>

"How do you do so much and not get tired of it all?" Evveran joked, coming over to the desk. He rested his hands on the back of her chair and leaned down, kissing the top of her head. Neyla finished her sentence and stopped writing, putting the little cork back in the bottle of black ink so it would not dry up. She rose from her seat and walked into Evveran's open arms, sighing happily as they stood there like that for quite some time.

"I like magic, I wish to learn more," she replied quietly, her head resting against his chest. Truthfully, Neyla wished to push the boundaries of magic. She theorized that there were no limits as to what magic could do, just that no one had ever tried to do everything, and she wished to push it's current limits, discover new ways that it could be used. For many months she had been working on ways to fight better, how to manipulate her magic to it's utmost degree, and how to regenerate more quickly. Everything at this point was in the learning stage, as she had yet to do anything physically. She was close though, she figured, to having a major breakthrough, which is why she pushed herself twice as hard.

"I wanted to ask if you would consider going to the gathering," Evveran began, holding the girl back so he could read her reaction. Neyla's eyes widened at his words, and he sighed.

"I know it's probably one of the last places you'd like to be, but you don't have to talk to anyone if you really don't want to." He led her to the chairs, and they both sat down. "I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to get some recognition though, many people have heard of my Apprentice but making an appearance would be good for us. Also, I'm hoping King Errik will be interested in meeting you."

"Why is all of that important?" Neyla asked; feeling overwhelmed.

"Only because keeping yourself isolated from fellow Magicians will eventually lead to them being suspicious of your intentions. I know you, and trust you with anything, but it is not the same for everyone else. A few appearances here and there will keep them satisfied, and you'll probably make some friends eventually." Evveran chuckled. "They may not be as bright as you but I'm sure they could humor you a bit!"

Neyla laughed, and then her face became serious again.

"I will go, but only because you asked me to."

"Good girl," Evveran replied, and he stood up. "You know," he told her, as he made his way to the door. "Avaria will insist you wear a dress."

"I will do no such thing," Neyla replied firmly, and Evveran rolled his eyes. "I will settle on robes, if you would allow me to wear them."

Evveran thought it over, and decided he could settle on that. Avaria would be pleased that is was something flowing, and so he nodded.

"Alright, make sure you talk to her tomorrow okay? You'll need to get a set made for you."

* * *

><p>Sakara sat in the bedroom belonging to both her and her husband; it's white walls glowing brightly as sunlight filtered through the open windows. She turned around as footsteps approached her, and smiled warmly at her husband, Ashaki Kuro, as he came over to her.<p>

"Husband," she murmured, enjoying the sweet kiss he planted on her lips. Kuro studied his wife for a moment, noting that her pretty smile did not reach her eyes, and frowned slightly.

"What is wrong love?" He asked, gazing at her. Sakara sighed.

"It's Neyla, she hasn't answered any of my letters for over a year, nor mother's. I try to keep hope, but it's getting harder to do so day after day."

"Then let us go to Arvice and see what is going on." Kuro replied, and Sakara was stunned.

"You would do that...for my sister?" She whispered, and Kuro chuckled, gathering the woman in his arms.

"I've already proven to you that not all Ashaki are ruthless blood lusting men, you know you can trust me Sakara,"

"I know," Sakara replied quickly, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I'm the luckiest woman in the world. Please, I would like to go to Arvice and see what is of my sister."

"Then we shall leave immediately. The end of the week should be enough time to prepare." Kuro gathered Sakara's body, lifting her up, and the woman giggled against his neck as he walked over to their bed and laid her down, ensuing in a passionate coupling.

Four days went by far too slow, and the trip to Arvice from Elyne was even slower, though Sakara had her husband to keep her company. Her mother had not gone with her, but was expecting Sakara to write to her as soon as she knew anything about her eldest daughter's whereabouts. A sense of dread pooled in her stomach, as the wagon's belonging to Ashaki Kuro reached closer to the city, knowing she would be going directly to Neyla's husband's house, as Ashaki Kuro had sent word of their trip. Ranaul was an odd man. In Sakara's opinion he was every bit one of the ruthless Magicians that she had heard stories about, and she shuddered at the thought that Neyla had been abused...or worse, by the man she married. Never mind that she knew from the start the marriage had been all a scam, and she wondered curiously what he had threatened her with, as Neyla would have never married such a man, if she had had a choice.

She didn't pay much attention to the city as they traveled through the streets; it was far to much Sachakan culture for her liking. White wall after white wall was mostly all she could see, as well as many of the darker skinned Sachakan's wandering about their business. Eventually they reached a house, belonging to Ranaul, and Kuro helped his wife step out of the wagon after he had climbed down.

I'm not wearing the typical Sachakan wraps the women wear, Sakara thought to herself. She had been blessed with a husband who had not tried to change her, Sachakan as he was through and through, they had stayed in Elyne and her Kyralian ways had not gathered dust like she had worried. I wonder if I'll be expected to wear such bright fabrics while I'm here she wondered wistfully, not entirely against the idea. She glanced at the slaves that prostrated themselves before Ashaki Kuro, Sakara was used to such a behavior as Kuro had kept his slaves when they married. He did not treat them as servants, as Sakara had wanted, but he did not treat them like some Ashaki, and she suspected Ranaul, treated their slaves.

"Take us to Ranaul," Kuro spoke firmly, and one of the slaves stood up from his spot on the ground, and the couple followed him. He lead them down a long white walled hallway that lead into a great sitting room. Ranaul had been informed of his visitors and stood waiting for Ashaki Kuro and his wife. When they reached the man, Sakara had to force herself not to scowl, she had never liked Neyla's husband since day one.

He took her from us, her thoughts growled. And now she may be missing, or worse dead.

"Ashaki Kuro," Ranaul greeted, and the men clasped each other's arms. "Sakara," he continued, and as was Sachakan etiquette Sakara bowed her head slightly, her gaze averted.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Ranaul," she repeated as nicely as she could muster.

It was considered rude for a woman to look directly at a man, and Kuro had made Sakara promise to try and remember to what she had been taught.

"If we offend him, or anger him in any way, he may be uncooperative," Kuro had explained to his wife, as they lay in bed back in Elyne. "We must take caution, if he has done anything to her it will be difficult to find out."

The idea that Ranaul could have harmed or even killed her sister sent a ripple of anger through her, and she was glad for once that she could not look at him, for fear her eyes would betray her emotion.

"I know why you are here," Ranaul spoke bluntly, and Sakara lifted her head in surprise, before quickly looking away. Ranaul glanced Kuro's wife once over, she was a pretty enough woman for a part Kyralian, but he much preferred her sister.

Neyla, he thought bitterly, Sakara would probably be upset. This better not got out of control.

"Ah," Kuro replied, his eyes on Ranaul as the man looked over his wife. He did not like his host, but being civil was key for the moment. "Well, we weren't going to just jump right into that, but I guess it is obvious why we are here."

"It is quite obvious," Ranaul looked back at the young Ashaki, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But I understand, Sakara is her sister and she worries."

"Is Neyla here?" Sakara asked, her voice ringing with months of pent up emotion. She blinked back tears, no she would not cry, not yet.

"Unfortunately not. But perhaps this is best discussed after you have settled in. Rest now, I will tell you everything when we join for dinner." With that being said Ranaul excused himself and left the room, leaving the couple alone.

"If he's done something to her," Sakara growled quietly through clenched teeth, and felt Kuro's arm wrap around her shoulders as they were lead by another slave. "He will be punished."

* * *

><p>"Unhh," Neyla groaned quietly, tensing as yet another person bumped against her. This is so overwhelming, she thought, sighing heavily, how does anyone handle such crowds?<p>

It didn't help that the robes she was wearing were unbearable in the stifling hot room; there were too many layers and too much fabric in her opinion.

"Quit your complaining," a voice called to her right, and Neyla shifted her body to see Lord Evveran walking over to her.

"It's written all over your face." He laughed, earning a non-hostile glare from the woman, and then he leaned closer.

"I saw King Errik sending looks your way, he might come over to you soon."

Neyla's heart skipped a beat, and she felt her anxiety rising. The King? Oh please don't make a big fool of yourself Neyla... her thoughts were abruptly cut off as Lord Evveran spoke again.

"Yes, see! He's coming this way. Be strong Neyla, he is a kind man."

Neyla sucked in a deep breath, her hands tightly gripping the glass she held, unable to bring herself to turn around.

"Lord Evveran," spoke a male voice Neyla knew would be the king's, and Evveran bowed his head, returning the greeting.

"And this must be your apprentice," King Errik's voice reached her ears and Neyla tensed, though she forced herself to turn halfway towards him, her head bowed.

"Uh yes," Evveran replied quickly, noticing how much Neyla was panicking, biting her lip nervously while her breathing increased in tempo.

Finally, she managed to glance up at Errik, and was greeted by a kind smile from the young ruler.

"Y-y-your Majesty," she whispered, and the King continued to smile though he did not hear what she said. Neyla cleared her throat, and looked away again. Evveran sighed inwardly, and shot King Errik and apologetic look.

"A pleasure to meet you Neyla." The king took his leave, and Neyla pinched the bridge of nose, feeling her cheeks flush; embarrassed by her actions.

"I have embarrassed you," she told Evveran, but he shook his head.

"No, Neyla, you could never embarrass me." He took her hand, squeezing it. "He is an understanding man."

But Neyla was unsure, she had blatantly and quite frankly rudely ignored the King of Kyralia while he tried to speak with her, and a wave of humiliation replaced her anxiety.

You're an idiot.

Unable to stand the suffocating crowd, Neyla desperately moved to a less crowded area, which was difficult to find. She managed to settle behind a pillar that was void of guests, and she let out a deep breath; resting her back against the cool stone and closing her eyes. For a moment she was able to tune out the loud and obnoxious noise, until she heard a voice.

"It's a little overwhelming isn't it?"

Neyla's eyes fluttered open, and she looked over at the bench only a couple steps away from her. King Errik occupied it, and immediately Neyla had to fight back the urge to flee.

"V-very," she managed to stutter, and the man smiled.

"I apologize if I made you uncomfortable earlier, Lord Evveran tells me you get anxious around strangers."

"It is a stupid trait," Neyla murmured, frustration in her tone. Her eyes were glued on the wall in front of her. "I...I hate it, I look like such a fool."

"Not a fool, Neyla," Errik replied, and she chanced a glance at the king. "You are doing just fine now. Would you care to sit?" He gestured to the vacant seat beside him, and Neyla shuffled over to him.

"I am not a fan of crowds either, but it is inevitable for someone such as myself."

Neyla tried not to squirm at their proximity, but instead focused on deep breathing and studied the king's features. He watched her with a curious but friendly expression as she did not reply, but looked at him.

"You do not like these parties?" She asked after a moment, their gazes meeting. Errik watched her as she quickly looked away, and turned her body so she was facing forward, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeves.

"They are tiring. I like to get to know my people better, but after a while it becomes uncomfortable." He plucked at the thick fabric he wore. "It's always so stifling hot."

Neyla nodded, smiling slightly.

"I wasn't going to come here," she told him, "I-I was...so nervous, especially to meet you." The woman looked over at him, and then she smiled even more, and Errik thought she was beautiful. "I did not know the King of Kyralia was so young, or so kind."

"Such a lovely compliment," Errik replied smoothly, grinning at her with a look of appreciation. "You are a beautiful woman, Neyla."

Neyla opened her mouth to stutter out a response, her cheeks blushing bright red, when a servant interrupted her.

"Your majesty," the servant spoke. "You are needed at the far side of the hall."

"Duty calls," The king joked, rising from the bench, and Neyla followed suit.

"It was a pleasure to have held a conversation with you," Errik turned to her, and gently took her hand. Neyla repressed a shiver as he brought it up to his rosy lips and lightly kissed her knuckles. "From what I was told, it is a rare treasure. I hope to see you again, Apprentice Neyla." He bowed his head, and Neyla bowed back.

"Your people are waiting," she replied jokingly, their gazes meeting once more, and then the King turned around and walked away.

That was interesting, he thought to himself, a smile on his lips. I think it would be nice to get to know the mysterious apprentice more.

I Survived, Neyla told herself, sitting back on the bench. And better than expected, I think I'm making progress.


End file.
